


In Reach

by deedeeinfj



Category: Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen can't reach his spleen; Jack helps</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Reach

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on Livejournal, 2004.

It was late in the morning on a wash and mend day when Jack lazily opened one eye in response to a loud thud nearby, immediately followed by Stephen's harsh, unpleasant voice: "The top shelf, for all love! Devil take them!"   
  
Before Jack's other eye opened, a grin had already spread over his face, and he lifted his massive body up from his cot. He had been shaken from a nice little dream about Sophie and their cottage. Sophie out in their garden, asking Jack to kiss her. But Sophie was many leagues and many long months away, and the sea was his mistress. A colorful variety of expletives hailed him as he made his way to the source of the noise that woke him. He found Stephen standing on a creaky wooden chair, and both man and furniture swayed precariously with the movement of the ship. Just out of his friend's reach was a cabinet door.  
  
"Good morning, my dear doctor," said Jack in a booming voice. Stephen answered with a growl. "Step down from that chair before you break your head, and let me help you. What is up there?"  
  
"My spleen." Stephen turned to face him with flashing eyes and a hearty scowl.   
  
"Are you sure?" Jack asked, his eyes disappearing in a mischievous smile. "You seem to have a lot of spleen this morning, ha ha ha!"   
  
There was a tug at the corner of Stephen's mouth, but he said stiffly, "The spleen I have meant to dissect these last three days. They put it in that top cabinet, certainly to have a laugh at me, the vipers."  
  
Jack laughed again and stepped closer, reaching up to the cabinet door. As he did so, a wave nearly sent Stephen crashing to the floor. Jack steadied them both and was suddenly conscious that Stephen's unshaved jaw rested against his forehead. He angled his face up to find Stephen looking down at him.  
  
"Steady, joy?" asked the doctor.  
  
"Quite so, Stephen." He lowered the jar and stared at it. "It's a waste of good spirits to have that rotting in there." He suddenly realized that "good spirits," in light of Stephen's foul temper, was foundation for wit, but he could come up with nothing. In fact, thinking anything at all was exceedingly difficult with Stephen so close, which was disturbing in itself - though not so much as the fact that he wondered how it would be to have Stephen's jaw against his own. It was ridiculous to think of, and could be attributed entirely to all these months away from Sophie.   
  
But what would Sophie give him when he went home? A kiss on the cheek, a hot supper, quiet patience while he took his long-awaited relief from celibacy on that first night back at the cottage? He thought of Stephen going to Diana, that passionate creature, and his thoughts darkened. It was humorous when one considered it, really: graceful Diana and Stephen with his beetles and wombats. How did Stephen make love to her? Did he have a footstool by the bed? Did he put on his spectacles and take notes? Did he...  
  
Again he felt the pleasant roughness of Stephen's skin against his own, and he leaned into it. "My dear?" said Stephen in some tone that Jack couldn't place. He couldn't place it, but he hoped that Diana Villiers had never heard it. It was a greedy, possessive hope that Jack might have called jealousy or lust if the person in his arms were a woman.  
  
He tightened his arms around the doctor's slight frame and brought his mouth close to Stephen's, hovering in infinite uncertainty and fear. Between them they held the jar with its half-preserved spleen, and between their mouths they traded breaths. Jack touched his lips briefly to Stephen's, then moved away, looking in every direction but his friend's face. He heard a thump as Stephen stepped to the floor; another bump as the jar was set aside.  
  
Every second felt like hours, and Jack felt desperate to be gone. He cleared his throat gruffly. "The Boccherini later?"  
  
"With all my heart," said Stephen. As Jack turned to leave, he added, "I may say, my dear, that you have left me in... good spirits."  
  
"Ha ha ha!" echoed the captain's laugh from below. The men shook their heads and went about their work.


End file.
